Guess who's unobservant?

Jess: They's sendin my husband home
Me: por que?
Jess: snows
Me: ...what snows?
Me: oh shit son
Me: hahahahaha
Me: I hadn't looked out the window lately
Jess: Fails





I'd go outside to get pictures but, uh. It's really effing cold. Maybe if there's more snow tomorrow.

This is not what I ordered.

X-files

You know what's terrible about having a cat that's (mostly) black? At night, in the dark, you think you see weird things moving and panic for a split second that a demon is after you...until you remember that you now have two cats, and one of them has night camouflage. And it happens several times a night, every night. Thanks, overactive imagination!

Today has sucked but I won't let it get me down

This picture pretty much sums up my day. Since I was up super late last night, I've felt pretty exhausted all day. I've been fighting sleep, and also fighting what I'm fairly certain are upcoming PMS issues. It's a fun time coming up for the rest of the world with that! I've felt alternately lonely and disheartened, depending upon the wind chill factor. I haven't bothered brushing my hair or getting dressed. Fuck you, pants, I'm taking a personal day.

I'm trying to reevaluate my worth as a person, and my importance in the lives of my friends. I haven't quite figured either out. It's making me quite sad. I want to believe I mean more to people than I feel like I do, but I'm really, seriously doubting it. The problem I encounter more often than not is that, while I'm incredibly, amazingly hesitant to let people into my little sphere of reality in a more in-depth way, when I actually do, I do it wholeheartedly, and that winds up leaving me hurt and sad more often than not. I'm thinking I should stick to the pushing people away for the time being to save my sanity, and the wee bits of feelings I have left.

Somehow, I've been talked into writing for a political website. I'm not even sure what the shit I'm supposed to be writing, really, and I'm not getting paid, which is all kinds of bull, but eh. I also have a couple of articles I should be writing that are due next week, but I'm a super slacker. I need to try doing two to three of these a day, but holy crap. So lazy. And in further meh news for the day, I went to get a Slim Jim out of the container and the wrapper was empty. Then I reached for another, and that one was empty too! What the hell, Slim Jim. You owe me about 75 cents for the missing ones. Don't think I'll forget.

Counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums

The terrible thing about anxiety and general worrywart behavior is the fact that, despite being incredibly tired, I can't go to sleep. I've decided that anything and everything takes priority to keep myself from sleeping. Currently, my project is transferring some of my music collection from the old laptop onto the new one, since I can't seem to get network sharing to work. I hate feeling anxious and I hate not sleeping, especially since I made the claim that I was going to bed four hours ago. Since that time, though, I've waffled between fighting off tears of frustration, pretending to think about writing, and playing on Pandora. I feel kind of like I want to go to sleep and wake up ten years from now and pray that I'm happy and healthy by then somehow. I get fed up with disappointment. It makes my brain and my heart hurt.

I'm definitely going to be asleep by the top of the hour, though. At least, I'd really like to be.

EDIT: I'm awake, and a liar.

Rocker

I ordered some things from Sephora not long ago and my order came in yesterday. I decided to wear the lip gloss today, despite only going down the street to the store. It's Kat von D's Rocker, and I think I like it, but I'm not entirely sure.


Also last night, I made chicken for dinner and managed to burn it on one side. I got wrapped up in watching something, and I tend to forget that I'm cooking. Oh well, it was still edible. The cats were certainly interested.

I tried sharing, but Dem doesn't seem to know how to eat from my hand, no matter how hard I try. Cricket, on the other hand, nommed the shit outta the crispy bits, then promptly stole Dem's pieces. He's thrown up the last two days but it's never food; just bile. I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not. If it happens tomorrow, I'll panic.

Speaking of tomorrow, fuck Valentine's Day.

Malarky

I've given up soda. It's been slightly hard, but profoundly cheaper. It's tea all the way for now. My plan is to drink a bunch of tea now, then slowly integrate water into the mix. I really, really don't like drinking water, but I've been informed that it's apparently healthy for you. Who knew?

Today's Jezebel was filled with such asshatery that I'm convinced it was some kind of Say Stupid Shit holiday. People felt it was alright to proclaim that rape was simply another form of sex, that it's better to have a game depicting rape to keep rapists from raping (what the fuck?), and that rape victims apparently should just suck it up because at least they're not dead. On top of that, one person felt it was necessary to inform us that Beth Ditto will have a heart attack by the time she's 40 and die. Psychics? On my Jezebel? It's more likely than you think.

Later, Kat and I must get in gear for new reviews on Apple Box. We're getting really positive feedback and I'd love to parlay it into something that, I dunno, makes money. Wishful thinking.

La la la la life goes on

Sometimes, when thinking about the future, I kind of just want to drown myself in a bathtub.

America, fuck yeah!

A man was injured early this morning in a car bombing. Being the insensitive asshole that I am, I was just mad that they interrupted Jerry Springer to inform me of this. When they interrupted the second time to note that it was a bomb and not some random gas explosion, I immediately decided it was a mob hit.

What? Doesn't it sound like a hit? Don't lie.

The police chief for West Memphis, though, is claiming it's a domestic terrorist attack. Really, chief? We're jumping to that conclusion? Maybe someone was just pissed at him. Maybe he had a secret lover that he dumped and she (or, hell, he) exacted revenge. Maybe it was intended for his wife. All of these are more believable than random terrorist attack. If a terrorist picks West Memphis, they are officially the worst terrorist ever, because that place fucking sucks. It's like picking somewhere in Iowa to bomb. Just pointless.

In other news, I'm talking to someone I met via OkCupid during the Great Jezebel Date Search of '09. He seems pretty nice. And I know I'm going to self-sabotage. It's just how I roll.